


Tales from Another Broken Home

by thendstartsnow



Category: She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, F/F, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Minific, Not So Mini After All
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-12-15
Updated: 2019-12-15
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:47:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21804649
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thendstartsnow/pseuds/thendstartsnow
Summary: Snips and bits of tales from Etheria, mainly minifics written for Tumblr prompts.1. Catra is about to give her first testimony as an ally of the Rebellion.
Relationships: Adora & Catra (She-Ra), Adora/Catra (She-Ra), Catra & Shadow Weaver | Light Spinner (She-Ra)
Kudos: 20





	Tales from Another Broken Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Catra and Glimmer have escaped Horde Prime and are back in Bright Moon. Catra is about to give her first real contribution to the Rebellion, and her thoughts are all over the place. Prompt: an absent look or touch.

The doors of Bright Moon’s War Room were _huge_. Even huger than those of Hordak’s lab, the ones she grew up dreading like death itself. She had never been more scared than now, though. She was trembling like a leaf stirred by the wind, and she _hated_ that—it made her feel vulnerable, and no matter how many of Glimmer’s “self-value goes beyond perceived projection of strength” speeches she had received, she was still that small child frantically trying to manifest a simulacrum of power in order to feel safe. Especially now, in an environment where everyone had every reasonable justification for hating her and wanting her dead.

She was still that child but many things had changed, along the way. The biggest of which was her being in Bright Moon as an ally instead of an enemy. Granted, she was still half a prisoner and no one apart from Glimmer actually trusted her, but she wasn’t an enemy. Only a former enemy. And although this couldn’t wear the hostility off, it was a start. A start she sometimes wished would never exist at all, not as long as she didn’t deserve it. And she still didn’t. She probably never would. She was rotten and broken and wicked and toxic to everyone and everything around her, having helped Glimmer escape that spaceship didn’t make any difference. Not even for _her_. Especially not for her.

Catra looked at the closed doors, and her ears flickered rapidly. She couldn’t hear a thing except for a low, homogeneous buzz of voices muffled together. She nervously scratched her arms, ruffling her fur, and then looked at her own hands. At the claws. A sudden image crossed her mind. The view of She-Ra’s back riddled with scratch wounds. Her wail of pain, the disappointment in her eyes. Another flashback followed, in rapid succession. She saw herself pulling a lever and opening that portal, she saw Adora’s desperate gaze. And then, in the blink of an eye, she was back to normal, her breath panting and her heartbeat blazing.

 _Calm down. Don’t be this weak. You gotta be confident. Just like the old times… don’t show your vulnerabilities unless you don’t want them used against you,_ she thought, gritting her teeth. Today was the most important day in her life. She was about to give the first testimony to the Alliance, showing them everything she knew about the former Horde’s—now Horde Prime’s—outposts and weapons repositories. She couldn’t screw it up. She had to prove she was loyal to the Rebellion now, even though the only thing she wanted to be loyal to was herself. She thought of Double Trouble, master of their own destiny and on the sides of who attended best to their own interests. She wished she was like this. She wished she didn’t have a reason to stay and entangle herself in yet another hierarchy.

Suddenly, she felt steps approaching from behind the doors. She clenched her fists and fixed her wild hair one more time. _Focus_. The door opened to a tremendously serious Adora, who looked Catra dead in the eye before stepping aside.

“We are ready for you,” she said, with such a formal tone that for a second Catra asked herself if they ever really knew each other. She felt lost, and suddenly angry. She didn’t know how she was feeling, actually. Maybe just powerless.

Her eyes were crossed by a tiny hint of hurt, that cracked them open and dug crevices in them, but she didn’t say a thing. Not even a “Hey, Adora.” She merely nodded with a neutral, almost absent look on her sharp face. Adora stopped looking at her the moment she recognized that veil of sadness, and stared at the floor instead, a frown on her face.

“Come on. We don’t have time.”

Catra entered the room with straightened shoulders and high chin, hiding the pain in her chest. For a second, a brief inch of a second, her hand brushed Adora’s while Catra was walking in. They both froze. Adora raised her head abruptly, eyes widened, and Catra shrinked away, her claws snapping outwards in an automatic reflection. She wanted to turn back and look at her, but she didn’t. It was pointless. She could do anything in the world and Adora still wouldn’t forgive her. It was pointless to look back.

She reached her spot, but didn’t sit. She stared at the people around her.

“So, where do we start?”


End file.
